Lovehammer: Enthalpy
by Lovehammer Inc
Summary: Aaand here are the stories and world building of Enthalpy
1. Sunsets

{oOo}

No one knew why Princess Serenity had ordered both her chambers and anything remotely shaded red to be painted in, as she put it, "a nice, dark shade of blue."

When questioned on the matter, she would simple reply, "I never really liked the color red anyway." As she had, not a day previously, been obsessed with the color pink, Horus was, admittedly, confused.

To make matters worse, he couldn't find her anywhere in the palace. When he asked the Adeptus Custodes, they mentioned that she had ordered them to say nothing of her location.

This would not do.

After several long hours of searching, he found her not in the kitchen, looking for food, as he had expected, but, rather, outside, of all places, watching the sunset.

Horus took a moment to process the sheer incongruity of the situation before he walked over to his sister and sat down next to her.

"If you are asking me why I have decided to paint everything blue," she said before Horus could speak, "I never liked the color red, anyway."

He stared at her. "Really? Because just yesterday, you happened to, and I quote, 'absolutely definitely love the color pink.'"

She groaned. "I've had people asking me that question all day, and I don't feel like spending the time explaining."

"You don't look like you're busy right now. Could you possible spare the time for-"

"Alright, fine. I'll tell you, and you can tell everyone else. How's that sound?"

Horus nodded, and leaned closer to his sister so as to not miss anything she said.

"Have you ever wondered why sunsets are red?"

"Because the atmosphere scatters light?"

"And why some sunsets are redder than others?"

Horus remained silent.

"When there is smoke in the air, the red color is both more vibrant and also lasts longer." She frowned slightly as she quieted for a moment. "When we fight to liberate worlds, the sunsets are redder than usual because of the fires which we light. I-" She shrugged helplessly. "It just reminded me of the killing."

Horus nodded. "I understand," he said as he left Serenity sitting alone, gazing at the red on the western horizon.

Serenity was odd sometimes, he thought. He could understand that she disliked red because it reminded her of battle, but because it was the color of the sunset rather than the color of blood?

Horus shook his head as he strode through the corridors of the Imperial Palace and cast such thoughts from his head. It would not do to think badly of the Princess, and he still had to collect on his bet with Rogal Dorn and rib Magnus about how he disquieted his sister now, after all.

{oOo}


	2. The Order of the Vermillion Sky

**The Order of the Vermillion Sky**

The Primarchs have their Space Marines, the elite fighting force of the Adepta Astartes which they have trained and honed to a razor's edge. The Adepta Astartes fight the Imperium's external enemies. They, led by the Primarchs (with the notable exception of the Silver Knights), fight the Tau and the Eldar, the Necrons and the Orks, in defense of the worlds of the Imperium.

The Adepta Sororitas is the Senshi's direct counterpart to the Space Marine Legions.

The job of the Adepta Sororitas is vastly different from that of the Astartes. Rather than acting as the bastions of the fortress of the Imperium, repelling external invaders, the Adepta Sororitas fight the Imperium's internal enemies, defending the citizens from spies and traitors as well as other, more subtle, threats. The Adepta Sororitas themselves are divided into four separate divisions: the Orders Hospitaller, the Orders Diologous, the Orders Militant, and the Orders Famulous, although there are other orders within the Sororitas which do not completely fall under any of these four categories. Each Order, no matter what category they fall under, numbers five thousand at all times unless battle losses are not replaced.

The Orders Hospitaller are responsible for the provision of food and medicine for the citizens of the Imperium. They are the Imperium's healers and physicians.

The Orders Diologous are responsible for translation between High and Low Gothic as well as between the languages of the Imperium and those of the xeno races which are not inclined to murder and destruction (1).

The Orders Famulous are responsible for the management of the affairs of all Imperial officials and often serve as a reminder of the Emperor's authority.

Finally, the members of the Orders Militant, who have the hardest jobs by far. Their task is to root out traitors within the Imperium, whether they may be wayward governors or Chaos cultists. Theirs is a thankless task. Casualty rates for first-year recruits are greater than thirty percent, and only one quarter of all members of the Orders Militant survive their first five-year tour of duty. Those that do, however, are some of the finest, most devoted fighters the Imperium has produced.

The Adepta Sororitas are known for having only one member ever fall to Chaos (2): Miriael Sabathiel. How she fell is unknown, although the fact that she now numbers among Slaanesh's mightiest warriors is known. This, however, only underscores the fact that the Adepta Sororitas are some of the Imperium's strongest warriors, as the weak have never been known to be exalted by the Chaos Gods.

The Order of the Vermilion Sky was the first order of the Adepta Sororitas to be founded. They are also the "elite" Order of the Orders Militant. While the other Orders Militant are responsible for training new recruits, the Order of the Vermilion Sky is composed solely of battle-hardened veterans, most of whom have already completed three or more tours of duty. They are specially trained by the Senshi and serve as their official retinue during diplomatic events. They also accompany the Senshi when they move to deal with internal issues. While the Silver Knights may be awe-inspiring and mighty, they lack the subtlety which is necessary for what much of the Order of the Vermilion Sky does.

The Order of the Vermilion Sky, besides accompanying the Senshi on missions, is also occasionally called upon to perform solo missions either when the Senshi are unavailable for some reason or when other Orders Militant would not be able to complete the task at hand without taking unacceptable levels of casualties.

Despite their skill at tact and subtlety, the Order of the Vermilion Sky is all the better in battle for it. Supposedly, they are able to fight Astartes to a standstill without numerical superiority. Orders of the Orders Militant are often named for artifacts or legends, most revolving around the Senshi (3). The Order of the Vermilion Sky, on the other hand, is one of the few which have earned their name through valorous deeds.

During a routine mission on Regulus, an Agri-World in the Segmentum Obscurus, the Chaos Cultists they were assigned to fight somehow managed to summon up a full Chapter of traitor Marines, who were killed to the man after a vicious week-long battle (4). The Order is named for the vibrant sunsets witnessed for almost half a year afterwards, which were so colorful due to the amount of ash thrown up into the atmosphere by the burning crop fields and vehicles, lit ablaze by the Sisters' flamers.

The Order of the Vermilion Sky, apart from their battle prowess and their composition of veteran Sisters is also notable for several other things. It is said that their activities regarding "literature" on Terra incited Magnus the Red into fits of bloody rage, quite out of character for the normally placid Primarch. Furthermore, they are known to have a very good working relationship with Mortarion's Death Guard, and many have been seen in his company, although for what reason is unknown. Mortarion himself declined to comment, citing issues of Imperial security, although he was clearly uncomfortable broaching the subject. He has also been heard to call the Sisters "fan girls," although how exactly rotary air impellers relate to the Order of the Vermilion Sky is unknown.

Finally, the Order of the Vermilion Sky is known to run a monthly newsletter which is shared among the members of the Adepta Sororitas. Princess Serenity herself has been seen reading it. Entitled Stories of Servants of the Imperium, it is never seen being read by members of the Astartes, despite the close working relationship. No member of the Astartes (5) or the Sororitas would comment on the newsletter however, and no copies could be found as of the writing of this article.

Their battle cry resonates through the hearts of the Imperium: "**For Love and Justice!**"

(1) So far, there have been very few none of these found.

(2) All rumors that other Sisters have been seduced by Chaos or have turned Traitor against the Emperor are Heresy and will be punished as such.

(3) Examples include the Order of the Golden Chalice, the Order of the Frozen Rose, or the Order of Silence Eternal.

(4) For more information, see the definitive work Military History of the Imperium: Order of the Vermilion Sky, Part I for more details. There is also a popular dramatization entitled False Gods and Generals.

(5) They tended to look nauseous for some reason.


	3. Miriael Sabathiel

**Miriael Sabathiel**

Sister Superior Miriael Sabathiel was born in M32 after the end of the Age of Heresy on the Hive World of Praetoria (1) in the Segmentum Tempestus. Orphaned at a young age, she survived in terrible conditions for at least three years before she was discovered by a member of the Order of the Holy Flame, an Order of the Orders Hospitaller.

After her rescue, she lived with the Sisters of the Order of the Holy Flame until adulthood, upon which she volunteered for training to become a member of one of the Orders Militant. Presumably, due to her upbringing, she wanted to be able to defend herself against situations similar to her life under the oppressive tyranny of the Praetorian legal code. She was accepted, and, after completing basic training in record time, Miriael officially became a member of the Order of Silence Eternal.

The Order of Silence Eternal is an order of the Orders Militant dedicated to Persephone, Senshi Saturn. Much like Mortarion's Death Guard, they have no battle cry, preferring to fight under a stoic silence. During a training match between the Death Guard and the Order of Silence Eternal, the only sounds which could be heard were the sounds of firing weapons, as neither side spoke at all.

Most of their communications are written out, and, during battle, orders are commonly transmitted using either light signals or hand signs. The Order's tactics are mainly oriented around superior firepower and extreme mobility. Each member of the Order is expected to be able to fight by herself if necessary, due the the emphasis on small-unit action.

Miriael was promoted after her first tour of duty to full-fledged Sister of Battle, and then to Sister Superior soon after. Outside of battle, the members who knew her reported her to be taciturn and reserved, refusing to participate in the many literature circles and debates which sprung up around the Primarchs.

Instead of enjoying conversation like the other members of the Order of Silence Eternal, who used the time between battles to converse between each other, Miriael instead seemed to revel in silence, although she spoke regularly to a select few people, most of whom were members of the Order of Holy Flame. However, this penchant for quiet was glossed over by her superiors, who focused on her record of successful battles over the lingering emotional damages from her childhood.

After the successful campaign against a Chapter of Plague Marines on Tleilax IV, she was assigned the command of a Dominion Squad, where she stayed until her fall to Chaos. During her tenure as the commander of the Dominion Squad, she and her squad were assigned as the personal bodyguard of Persephone, who specializes in close combat. She and the Senshi became quite close, and Persephone could often be seen in her company (2).

Despite her fall, Miriael is one of the most decorated members of the Adepta Sororitas, receiving no less than twenty-two various awards during her service (3). She was the first Adepta Sororitas to earn the title of Favored of Persephone, which was instated on her behalf.

Little is known of the specifics of her fall to Chaos: only that it occurred during the Second Golden Crusade, when, under the command of Persephone, the Order of Silence Eternal entered the Eye of Terror to attempt to eliminate the shattered remnants of the Traitor Word Bearer legion. During the third week of fighting on Sicarus, she was separated from her squad and all contact was lost. Just before the retreat began two months later, she was spotted as a Keeper of Secrets fighting alongside the Word Bearers. It is believed that her conversion was not voluntary.

All other records of her have been expunged, although it is rumored that, given her high status as a Favored of Persephone and her illustrious battle history, her records are kept in a vault on the Order of Silence Eternal's homeworld of Salusa Secundus in case she manages to throw off the shackles which were placed upon her by the ruinous powers. Supposedly, Persephone herself is still searching for a plan to rescue her from the clutches of Chaos...

(1) More information on Praetoria can be found here

(2) Mortarion reportedly approved, as there are no records of Miriael having fainting spells.

(3) 3x Imperial Laurel, 2x Order of the Scarlet Wing, 1x Markswoman's Honor, 4x Badge of Silence, 6x Imperialis, 2x Exterminatus Inferior, 1x Crux Medallion, 1x Order of the Twilit Moors, 1x Exterminatus Superior, 1x Favored of Persephone


	4. Remembrance I

{oOo}

Miriael Sabathiel remained silent as the noise of hundreds of bolters merged into a cacophony of noise. She ignored it focused her gaze on the one person she was assigned to protect. Persephone led the squad of Adepta Sororitas grimly, glaive in hand, as they advanced towards the enemy. Far ahead, two green flares soared skywards.

_Engaging the enemy._

The sounds of bolters was joined by the crackling of flames and screams of pain. She grinned in anticipation of battle, and looked to her comrades. Their Tyrian purple armor was lined with silver. Persephone appeared at the edge of her vision, motioning with her hand.

_Charge._

She shot forth, the shine of her silver armor hidden beneath a layer of tarnish. Two more flares shot up ahead, one red, one silver.

_Word Bearers._

She could see them now, Traitor Marines clad in crimson and silver. She raised her storm bolter and aimed. The rounds scythed through the first few, the heretics giving stunned grunts as they fell. The ground shook, and Miriael struggled to maintain her balance. A shadow blotted out the sun, already obscured by smoke, and she looked up to see Lorgar seemingly fall out of the sky.

His impact shook the earth, and she screamed as she fell from the concussive force, letting out the first sound she had made since they had deployed. Lorgar's chainsword descended ever so slowly towards her Lady...

{oOo}

Miriael awoke with a start, sitting straight up in sheer terror. She could feel rivulets of cold sweat running down her face. She held her breath until her thudding heart slowed its pace. Quickly dressing, she stood by her mirror and let her clenched fist fall to the cabinet. "Damn it." She looked up at her reflection, and cold green eyes stared back at her from underneath a layer of dark hair. She felt the first tear fall. "Damn it."

_Ten years. Ten years of failure, ten years of bearing the burden of shame, ten years._

She shuddered. She didn't like reminiscing on the past. Ever since she had joined the Adepta Sororitas, she'd felt almost content, happy to have a family for the first time in her short life.

_Ten years. Ten years since a battle they should have won. Ten years of fighting for honor, for hope, for vengeance, ten years._

The announcement was supposed to be today. She nodded silently as she met other members of the squad she led, of the Order she belonged to, as they gathered together to watch their Lady speak.

_Ten years. Ten years of watching her Lady wearing her tarnished armor into battle, bearing her own personal badge of shame._

"It is over," Persephone said to the assembled crowd. Her voice carried far despite its softness. "Our journey is over. Our target is Sicarus, the new homeworld of the traitor Word Bearers. We will fight them, and bring Lorgar home!" There was no cheering. The Order of Silence Eternal merely acknowledged and left.

_Ten years, now over._

{oOo}


	5. Remembrance II

{oOo}

The air screamed around the Drop Pod as her squad fell through the atmosphere of the planet Sicarus. Metal glowed red from the friction of the air. It was sweltering inside. Miriael swept sweat out of her eyes. Next to her sat her Lady, as always dressed in the tarnished silver armor, spinning her glaive nervously. She smiled slightly and hugged her slightly.

_Everything's going to be fine._

She had served for almost twenty-five years now as the head of Persephone's bodyguard, and knew her better than even Mortarion did. Persephone, for all her age and prowess in battle, had never had a childhood, being thrust from almost her very birth into the fires of war. Sometimes, she acted almost like a lost child, and Miriael could sympathize.

A thunderous explosion rocked the pod, and Miriael twitched nervously as a clang marked the impact of a piece of metal on the side of the hull. There was nothing that could be done, and even with orbital bombardment, there were still many, many weapons on the surface which could shoot their pods down, killing an entire squad before they even reached the surface. With a lurch, the retrorockets fired and she felt the slight rumble of the landing.

Nearly instantly, her squad moved, manning the assault cannons mounted on the sides to clear the landing zone of enemies. The cannons thundered, and each Sister held up two fingers.

_All's clear._

With a mighty roar, the sides fell away to reveal the Daemonworld of Sicarus. In the hazy distance, tall spires rose, their peaks adorned with the eight-pointed stars of Chaos. She was the first one out. The air smelt of blood and sweat. They were on a plain, pock-marked here and there by enormous craters, some still coated in glowing glass.

It was quiet. Apart from the wind blowing through the air and the mechanical hisses of other Drop Pods, there was no noise. A sudden squelch made her stop in surprise, and she saw that she had stepped in what was left of a Word Bearer, hollowed out from the inside by an Assault Cannon round.

Behind her, a member of the Emperor's Children nodded at her in greeting. The legion's once vibrant armor was shrouded in black and would be until Primarch Fulgrim had recovered from his ordeal. She had seen the images. They all had, and they all knew. Capture was not an option.

She kicked the severed head, still in its helmet towards the tall towers in the distance. It threw up clouds of stifling white dust as it bounced. She looked down. A thin layer of the substance hung close to the ground, and the ground crunched underfoot as she experimentally took a step. They stood in a desert of bone. One particular citadel stood prominently in the distance. Their target would be there.

She nodded, and gestured quickly.

_Move out._

After setting demolition charges on the Drop Pods, the entire group, Astartes and Sororitas, moved enmasse towards their distant target. From the temple complex in the distance, an unearthly melody played, and as it faded to nothingness, an entire section of the desert suddenly rose as one. A deep drumbeat sounded, and the Word Bearers chanted as one. "Doomed to fail," they said, voices distorted by the speakers on their armor, "Doomed to fail." Miriael saw Persephone's hand tighten around her glaive.

A loud screech came from overhead, and she looked up. Flocks of Furies wheeled and turned. She raised her storm bolter and fired the first shot. The staccato chatter of bolter fire began in earnest after her shot, and hundreds of the Lesser Daemons fell, torn in half by the exploding rounds or unable to support themselves with tattered wings.

Miriael held Persephone's arm as she attempted to sprint towards the approaching enemy. She made a short series of signs.

_Let us do our duty._

The Senshi nodded solemnly and raised her glaive, swinging it through the air. An faint barrier of light sprang into life above the heads of the Sisters of Battle, and several hundred Furies dove straight into it, screeching while disintegrating into a fine dust which quickly blew away on the faint breeze.

Julius Kaesoron screamed orders over the cacophony of noise and the Emperor's Children instantly obeyed, focusing on the approaching Word Bearers and the Daemons accompanying them while the Order of Silence Eternal killed the remaining Furies.

The battle was joined. The screams of the dying shot up in intensity as the two armies collided. Miriael shot off several rounds, frantically trying to stay next to Persephone, who wove through the battlefield, killing as she went. The glaive's blade turned its victims into dust, armor, bolter, and person all. She coughed twice as she inhaled the dust of one of her Lady's kills.

A Dark Apostle took advantage of her momentary lapse to charge at her, Crozius Arcanum in hand. The accursed staff managed to cut through half of her bolter by the time she fired on instinct, blowing both her and the heretic apart. Quickly grabbing a flamer from a downed Sister, she turned to face the Dark Apostle and fired. The rounds still in the discarded shreds of the magazine at his feet exploded with a resounding boom, blowing the corrupted Chaplain into his brethren. She lit them on fire.

Persephone had sprinted ahead, and she followed her, firing as she went. Several times, bolter rounds narrowly missed her, passing by so close that she could feel the heat radiating off the rocket-propelled bullet.

The battlefield rumbled again, and three flares shot skyward, one red and two silver.

_Lorgar._

Stunned, she could only watch as the Primarch fell once again from the sky, crushing two of her Sisters. She felt a sharp pain in the back of her head, and the last thing she saw before collapsing was the worried glance her Lady spared at her before she left to fight the traitor Primarch.

{oOo}

Miriael awoke once again, this time to a towering figure still clad in armor. The Apothecary looked down at her prone form. She could see a cloth ceiling above him. "You were lucky Sister Superior," he said. "Your injury was not severe, and although you should rest, you will be able to fight again tomorrow." He stopped for a moment as if looking for something to say. "You are indeed lucky, to enjoy the favor of one of Our Senshi," he said after a while. "Rest well. I am sure she will want to see you."

Miriael held back her tears of frustration as she saw Persephone's still-tarnished armor. The Senshi sat down by her side, and Miriael tried to wave her off.

_It is not necessary. I failed you._

Persephone frowned at that.

_I should not have let you be injured on my behalf._

Miriael let out a deep sigh.

_It is my duty. I believe we have argued concerning this before._

Persephone sat there awkwardly after their brief exchange. After several minutes of silence had gone by, filled only by the soft hum equipment in the distance, Miriael looked at her Lady.

_You should leave. I am sure you have more pressing matters at hand._

Persephone nodded reluctantly and stood to leave. As she reached the threshold, she stopped. Walking back to where Miriael lay, she gave her a brief hug and walked out, giving her prone form one last mournful look before she left.

Exhausted, Miriael slept. Her dreams that night were not pleasant.

{oOo}


	6. Remembrance III

{oOo}

Three weeks. Three weeks of hell on Sicarus. They had endured. The days of fighting dragged on, and Astartes and Sororitas died, killed by exploding bolter rounds, by fire, by the claws of Chaos Daemons. But they had taken their toll before they left, as the Furies which had once darkened the skies above had disappeared, and the Word Bearers, once out in force, had stopped their attacks.

The sun never set on Sicarus, as the light filtering across the sky had no discernible source. Eerie music floated on the omnipresent breeze. The temple complex where Lorgar made his home now loomed in the distance, the kilometer-high spires standing ominously, piercing the horizon. There was really no sense of scale, no way to measure distance in the endless wastes of bone. And they marched.

Miriael sighed as she ran. Her hand-picked Dominion Squad, her Lady's personal guard, each and every one on par with the best the Order of the Vermilion Sky had to offer, was gone. Of the original twelve she had served with, only she remained. Not only did that mean that she had lost twelve friends and trusted subordinates, but it meant that she was solely responsible for Persephone's safety as well. It also meant that she had not been able to sleep much for the past week.

Looking after Persephone was her appointed task. It also explained how she'd gotten into this situation in the first place. A patrol had requested help after encountering a large contingent of Word Bearers. _That_ part, at least, was routine. Naturally, Persephone had jumped at the chance to try and face Lorgar again, and she had followed, as was her duty. Somehow, while they were dealing with the Word Bearers, the perimeter which her comrades had formed had been driven back by a full-scale assault. Cut off behind enemy lines and attacked from all sides, they had had no choice but to fight their way back to their position or die.

They died.

She tried to push Persephone's hand off her arm as she snapped off several shots behind her. She glanced behind her shoulder. There were literally hundreds of, and although the Word Bearers chasing them were deprived of their normal Daemon mounts, but they were still gaining on her, and those four Keepers of Secrets would likely even be able to at least grievously wound her Lady by themselves. That would not do. Miriael grunted and looked down, still running. No sisters of hers to back her up, no way to fight a rearguard action, just two lonely figures running across the desert.

Pulling the pin off of the plasma grenade, she lobbed it over her shoulder and grinned as she heard the clang as it hit one of their pursuer's armor. There was a rumbling boom accompanied by several shrieks of agony. Miriael kept running. Closer now. Hopefully, there weren't there still wasn't any fighting at the front and she would be able to get Persephone to safety. She threw another grenade over her shoulder and heard a bellowing roar which faded to nothingness as the grenade detonated. A chunk of Keeper of Secrets shot over her shoulder. Three grenades left.

They were approaching the fighting now. Corpses appeared on the dusty ground, at first here and there, and gradually thickening until it seemed as if the entire ground was covered in a carpet of dead and dying. The Word Bearers were almost on them, less than a kilometer away. Miriael once again tried unsuccessfully to pry Persephone's deathgrip off of her arm. She waved her hand at her Lady.

_Go. I will follow._

Persephone looked at her sadly.

_If I let go, you won't come back._

Miriael sighed. This wasn't the first time that Persephone had refused to leave her.

_I am a soldier. It is duty to protect you. Will you let me do what I must?_

Persephone shook her head.

_No._

Miriael pressed one of her three remaining plasma grenades into Persephone's hand.

_They are here. Go. I will hold them off. Use those if necessary._

Persephone clutched the grenade, looking at her tearfully.

_Promise me that you'll come back. Promise?_

Miriael nodded, and Persephone reluctantly let go of her arm. She lit a red flare, shooting it skywards to mark her location, should it prove to be necessary to mark her location for now in case Persephone lost her direction or a mission was called to rescue her or recover her co- No. She would not think of that. She had promised to return.

She slowed her paced and stopped. Turning on one foot, she faced the advancing horde and emptied her remaining rounds into the crimson-clad mass of enemies and reloaded, pleased at the brilliant flashes of the explosions her bolter made. She threw a grenade, and it exploded in a brilliant flash, leaving a hole in the enemy ranks.

Five hundred meters. She fired again, streaks of golden light stitching across the bodies of the Traitor Marines. A stray round hit a Keeper of Secrets in the face and exploded, forcing it to fall back, bringing down the count to two. The stream of fire from her bolter cut off abruptly and she reloaded with practiced ease.

Three hundred meters. She fired again, and this time she could hear the crackling as her rounds detonated inside the armored shells of the Word Bearers. A burst of fire cut across one of the two Keeper of Secrets, neatly blowing it in half. It roared at her in incompetent rage as it toppled over. She stuck her finger through the loop on the pin of her last grenade while she reloaded.

One hundred meters. More golden lines shot out, more Traitor Marines fell, but they advanced unceasingly. Risking a moment of unaimed fire, she looked back and saw Persephone's diminutive form receding into the distance. She supposed she had carried out her duty to the best of her ability. A faint red light still shone down upon her, and she knew that the flare still burned overhead.

Zero. She started backing up, firing one-handed as she pulled out one last flare. The final Keeper of Secrets caught up to her as she fumbled with the flare. It skewed her with one of its claws, punching through her protective power armor as if it wasn't there. Miriael dropped the bolter and touched off the flare, dropping it as she struggled with the pin on the grenade. She saw it fall as her fingers involuntarily loosened before she finished pulling the pin completely out, falling from where she hung in midair. Her vision was fading now, and behind the claw slowly descending on her she could barely make out a single flash.

_I'm sorry._

Everything went black.

The grenade bounced as it fell onto the desert floor and the recalcitrant pin popped out as it hit the ground. A single white flare shone in the skies of Sicarus as a blinding flash seared the ground. When the dust cleared, there was nothing left to indicate that anyone had passed that way, save for a single deep crater lined with the charred sands of bone.

{oOo}

Persephone knew immediately what the white flare meant. Of the hundreds of flare combinations and hand signs the Order of Silence Eternal used, the most distinctive was that of the single white flare. White, the color of cleansing, of purity, of It was sometimes used to mark the locations of the corpses of dead Chaos Daemons to ensure total destruction, but, far more commonly, was used during a Sister's last stand. She ignored. Miriael had promised, and Miriael had never lied to her.

The glaive spun in her hands as she streaked through the lines of battle, scything through the ranks of Traitor Marines assaulting her Order of Silence Eternal. Finally, she reached the safety of her compatriots and collapsed, exhausted.

_Safe._

Now, if only- Persephone fell asleep as two Sisters gently lifted her and took her to the rear, behind the fighting.

They'd all seen the white flare, knew what it meant, and now that Persephone had come back alone... They gave each other a meaningful glance and left Persephone to slumber in peace as the headed back towards the fighting.

{oOo}

When Persephone awoke, the battle was over. The Adepta Sororitas made camp, some sleeping, others relaxing after a hard-fought victory. Something shifted in her palm and she unclenched her fist, seeing a single plasma grenade laying in her hand. She stared at it.

A hand waved in front of her face.

_My Lady?_

She looked up, still not fully awake.

_Yes?_

_What should we do with the Sister Superior's files? The standard procedure?_

Persephone shook her head.

_She will be back. Seal them for now, but keep them safe._

The Sister nodded and backed out. Persephone sat and stared at the grenade in her hand once again. A memento. She taped the pin to the body of the grenade, ensuring that it would not fall out, and carefully, almost reverentially put it with her personal effects.

Everyone in the order noted that the tarnish on Persephone's armor was even darker than usual when they marched off to battle the next day.

{oOo}


	7. Remembrance IV

{oOo}

The first thing Miriael felt was pain. Searing, mind-numbing pain. She opened her eyes. What had she been doing... Running. She had run with her Lady and taken a stand to ensure Persephone's safety. But what she saw was not Sicarus. It was... She saw the dusky red skies. Lampadas. Their failure. She saw the battle once again as if watching a movie, team after team falling back to the shuttles, members of the Order slowly retreating as they fired into the mass of approaching Traitor Marines.

Persephone tried to run past to the Sisters still fighting on the ground, her still-silver armor glinting in the light, but Miriael grabbed her bodily and pulled her onto the last shuttle out as it lifted off. She could see the proud salute they gave as they died in the Emperor's name. The planet's surface below them glowed red from the fires, and streaks of thick black smoke obscured the view. There were still loyal citizens on the planet, she knew, who had no hope of rescue.

A streak of light shot out from the Battleship _Titania_, descending towards the condemned world. It impacted the planetary surface and a massive burst of golden fire shot up in a gigantic pillar, flaring briefly before fading to nothingness. The shockwave blew across the surface of the planet, flinging chunks of earth and rock high up into the atmosphere before they came down ever so slowly to crush the fragile beings still clinging to life on the surface. The shuttle bay doors closed with finality, finally cutting off the vision of the planet below...

Miriael Sabathiel's body jerked in its binds, letting out a soundless scream as the Keeper of Secrets contemplated its next action.

{oOo}

She didn't know how many times the Keeper of Secrets had tried to possess her anymore, losing count after fifty. The entire time, her worst failures played, looping over and over again. It was painful, seeing faces remembered only in deepest memory brought to life, only to be killed over and over again. The pain was excruciating, but she forced herself to endure it. She had promised to return, and return she would, pure and of her own volition.

Another wave of searing pain battered her consciousness, and she forced herself to remember herself - her identity, her name, her duty.

"I am Adepta Sororitas," she said to herself in the depths of her mind. "My duty is my life. I defend Man against his enemies. My life is Saturn's to command..."

The pressure on her mind doubled and redoubled its intensity and slowly, she gave way under the force, folding in upon herself from the intensity of the pressure applied to her. Mentally, she screamed and raged. Slowly, she lost the senses she once had, ceded control of herself, curling up in a corner of her mind, surrounded by memories.

_Pain._

Praetoria was a harsh world, where every breath she took was taxed. It was no place for orphans, and she lived miserably, small frame wracked by spasms of hunger.

_Loneliness._

There was no one who would help her, who would take her in and raise her. Her parents were long dead, and who in their right mind would take on another burden, another mouth to feed, when they barely had enough to make ends meet themselves? Sometimes, she saw children playing in the streets, happy and, if not well-fed, at least not constantly hungry, and she wondered what it would take for her to be loved like they did.

_Relief._

The starving orphan was found by a member of the Order of the Holy Flame and taken in. For the first time, she could live not having to worry about paying for the air she breathed. It took her six months before she stopped hoarding food.

_Pride._

She wanted to follow in the kindly Sister's footsteps, and she applied to join the Sisters of Battle. She had never felt prouder than on the day she was accepted into the Order of Silence Eternal after completing her basic training.

_Sorrow._

The Sister who had taken her in, the first person to show her true kindness, died, killed by Chaos Cultists during a humanitarian mission. In her sorrow, she cried and refused to speak to anyone for weeks.

_Honor._

She was assigned to be the head of Persephone's personal bodyguard. She swore to follow wherever Persephone led and, if necessary, to trade her own life for that of her ward's. It was her honor to do so. She would not fail.

_Love._

More than ever, she realized that sometimes, Persephone was just a lonely child. Mortarion could not take care of her properly, as he was usually away on some mission or another. More than anything else, she could empathize with her loneliness. So she made it her job to make Persephone happy, to let her smile freely, to wipe away the haunting solitude which lurked behind violet eyes. Seeing Persephone with a look of sheer, unadulterated joy whenever she met her made her brilliantly joyful yet depressingly sad at the same time.

_Regret._

She left behind over three hundred of her sisters on Lampadas that fateful day, abandoned because the shuttles which were supposed to be there to take them off-planet had been destroyed. She cursed everything - herself for not being able to do more, her duty for not permitting her to trade with someone who deserved the space she took up more, her kindness for not letting her leave Persephone alone. The next day, the first flecks of black tarnish showed up on Persephone's silver armor.

_Despair._

Ten years of defeat after defeat ensued, and even the small victories they won were not enough to wipe away the lingering shame at having to kill civilians, PDF, Imperial Guard, themselves, in their endless quest to defend the Imperium from its enemies. Through it all, the tarnish spread and grew. The silver lining on her own armor rusted as well, and the once-bright badges marking her rank and accomplishments dulled as well from lack of care.

_Hope._

Their quest could finally be at an end. Sicarus would be their salvation. They would cleanse Lorgar of Chaos or kill him, and they would finally be able to rest, knowing that their failures had been redeemed, and she would be happy knowing that she would see Persephone smile again. Ten long years, finally at an end.

Miriael Sabathiel awoke, and cried out in horror as her body, possessed by a Keeper of Secrets, laughed. She could feel it, the wetness of blood sticking to her hands as she killed her comrades. She screamed, and no one heard save the demon inhabiting her body.

{oOo}

They were retreating. Yet another failure to add to ten years' worth of defeat. The shuttles had landed, and the level plains of bone was filled with running Astartes and Sororitas. Occasionally, an artillery shell streaked in, exploding amidst the running mass, throwing up massive clouds of dust and sending shards of metal scything through the massed ranks of humanity.

Word Bearers came from all sides, supported by the occasional Daemonette or Keeper of Secrets. Persephone spun, almost as if dancing, glaive in hand, buying time for the others to retreat. An Adepta Sororitas of her Order approached her.

_Go! We'll hold them off!_

Persephone shook her head.

_My duty is to you. I have failed once. I will not do so again._

She had worked with Miriael for over thirty years, and, despite the fact that she was literally hundreds of years older than her, she had seen her as one of her closest friends. Even though she had left her behind, Persephone knew in her heart that somehow, Miriael would return. She had promised. Miriael didn't break her promises.

The Order of Silence Eternal were the people she worked with, trained with, fought with. Up until now, they had died for her, in her name. She would not let such a thing happen again. They had a duty to her. Did she not also have a duty to them?

The Sororitas tapped at her shoulder more urgently, trying to get her attention.

_Your life is our duty. Go._

Persephone shook her head again.

_Your lives are my duty. I will stay until everyone is off._

Seeing that her Lady would not be dissuaded from her course of action, the Sororitas resumed firing into the milling crowd of Word Bearers. Persephone kept on fighting, ignoring the sharp reports from the bolter besides her. The constant stream of fire suddenly cut off. Looking over, Persephone could see her erstwhile partner gazing up at the sky, a gaping hole in her chest armor dripping blood. She looked away and kept fighting. There would be time enough to mourn after this was over.

The Sororitas thinned as more and more shuttles lifted off, and finally there was one last shuttle and no more Sororitas, the ramp down and the hold open, waiting only for her footsteps. Even as Persephone turned, the fire peppering the armored hide of the shuttle slackened, and a Keeper of Secrets appeared before her. It's face was-

No. Nonononono. It couldn't be true. It wasn't. Her glaive dropped as she let go in shock, and she stumbled backwards and fell. It's claw-like fingernails reached down to rend flesh, and she closed her eyes. A moment passed. An eternity. She opened her eyes, and saw Miriael's face above hers, claws twitching as if some invisible force were preventing it from descending. "I'm sorry," it mouthed, one eye leaking tears, "run."

Persephone grabbed her glaive and sprinted for the shuttle as the bolter fire resumed once again. She dove into the cargo hold and the shuttle lifted off, ramp closing behind her, granting her one last look at the person she considered family before the hatch sealed with a hiss.

"It's not her," she whispered to herself, "it's not her."

For the first time since meeting Miriael, Persephone cried.

The members of the Order of Silence Eternal looked at each other awkwardly as their Senshi sobbed on the cold metal floor of the shuttle. And through the gasps and the sounds of sorrow, they could hear three phrases repeated over and over again.

"It's not her."

"She'll come back."

"She promised."

Just as the shuttle broke orbit, a single heart-rending shriek sounded.

"How could they steal her face?"

{oOo}

Miriael's records were sealed at Persephone's orders.

The Senshi herself waited.

_She'll come back to me._

_She promised._

{oOo}


	8. Remembrance V

{oOo}

Mortarion knocked on the door, sending loud booms echoing down the mile-long corridors of the Imperial Palace. He frowned. The Sister of the Order of Silence Eternal he had spoken to had told him that Persephone had retired to her chambers immediately after returning to Terra. He had gone to visit her accordingly, and so, now he stood outside the closed and locked door which marked her domain.

He knocked again, and as the echoes faded away, he heard a faint "Who is it?"

"Mortarion," he said, speaking is name, almost yelling. It was a level of volume that Angron would consider to be a whisper, but it worked.

There was a click from the door, and it slid open. He walked in. "Persephone?"

She looked up. Her eyes were still puffy and swollen. "Mortarion?"

He picked her up and sat her on his shoulder like he used to, letting her wrap her arms around his head. Not long after, he felt wet tears fall onto his head. Just what had happened on Persephone's mission? He hadn't been able to visit her recently for over a year.

He had been assigned elsewhere and his duties had kept him away for over fifty years. The general rebellions which begun after the Age of Chaos had officially ended were of a massive scale, and it had taken him many years to quell the unrest which had pervaded his assigned sector. Persephone herself hadn't had it easy - she had often accompanied her Chapter of the Silver Knights and the Order of Silence Eternal on defense and peacekeeping missions, and they'd been apart more often than they'd been together.

The sense of closeness they'd had, although still mostly there, had faded somewhat, as if it had degraded due to the time which had passed.

He supposed he probably should have visited more often, he had been to visit several times, off and on while his Legion had been fighting the members which had turned traitor. However, the last time he'd seen her, she'd been quite eager to meet him, meeting him as soon as he stepped off of the shuttle. What had changed since then? Come to think of it, the last few times she had been accompanied by a member of her Order. What was her name again? Miriael?

"How is Miriael?" he asked. Almost immediately after he said those words he knew it had been the wrong things to say. She gripped his head even tighter, and he could feel her begin shaking slightly from muffled sobs. Feeling awkward and not knowing what to do, he could only pat her gently on the back as she cried into his hair.

"It's going to be all right," he said quietly. She kept crying.

He heard her whisper something between choking breaths. It took him several moments, but after a while, he finally managed to decipher what she was saying.

"She'll be back," she whispered. "She'll be back." Mortarion wondered who she was trying to reassure - him or herself.

Mortarion watched helplessly as the girl he'd known for over a millennium cried into his shoulder. His eyes fell, unbidden, to the taped grenade lying besides Persephone's pillow.

{oOo}

There was no feeling worse than that of emptiness. Even Mortarion's presence had not helped. She had been glad that he had been there for her, but he was no substitute.

Her childhood on Barbarus had not been kind. Mortarion had rescued her, and, even after meeting Princess Serenity and the Emperor, she had still found that he was still the closest thing to family that she had. Even then, there was something missing. Mortarion had his brothers and sons in his Legion. She had none. Furthermore, he and his brothers were often absent for long periods of time, off to conquer some planet or another during the Great Crusades. Left in the Imperial Palace, she had never felt so _useless._

Serenity and even the others would go out to, as they put it, "win the hearts and minds of the populace," but, as the youngest of the family, they had made her stay in the palace. When she'd been offered the opportunity to lead her own Order of the Adepta Sororitas, she had jumped at the chance to prove herself. At first, they had planned on having her lead an Order of the Orders Hospitaller, but after months of arguing and no small amount of Mortarion's help, they had finally let her found her Order as part of the Orders Militant. Thus was born the Order of Silence Eternal.

At first, they had not been assigned any combat missions, instead, being relegated to back-line guard duty. It took many months of arguing and their successful defense of Giedi Prime that she and her order were finally permitted to take part in front-line operations. Persephone had patterned them off of Mortarion's Death Guard, and they fought in silence, relying on superior firepower and proficiency at small-unit tactics to carry the day.

It had not been enough. Even though she had the command of her own Order, she didn't share the closeness that her brothers shared with their legions. Where the legions often treated each other as family, rather than a strictly military organization, and the Primarch was merely the highest commanding officer, the Order treated her with far too much deference. Where she wanted people she could connect with, to live with, to laugh with, Persephone instead received an Order full of those who merely wanted to serve. It took far too long for them to open up to her.

Miriael had been different. When she ad been assigned as her bodyguard, she had immediately warmed to her. After twenty-five years with Miriael as her bodyguard, they had created something she had never had before. Someone to trust, someone to confide in. A friend. Family.

And it had been torn away in a moment. It had been many years since she had not had Miriael at her side. She had become accustomed to her presence. It was lonely, living by herself without her bodyguard's constant presence.

But Miriael would be back. She had promised.

{oOo}

Seeing her body being slowly warped by the possession of the Keeper of Secrets was bad enough. Knowing that the person you were was slowly being perverted into another form was a terrible experience. Seeing herself kill the people she had trained with, fought with, _lived_ with was worse by far. And through it all had been the Daemon's mocking laughter, as if it were saying that what she had seen was merely a harbinger for the depravity that would follow.

It had taken a supreme effort to will her sharpened fingernails from slowly descending upon Persephone's prone form. To tell Persephone to run from her when she wanted so much to hold her within her arms and tell her not to worry was harder by far. But it was worth it. She had sworn her life to Persephone, and she would uphold her vow. She would endure this torture. She had promised to return.

But the flashes of flying purple hair, of haunted violet eyes, of the sad smiles which Persephone would give her from time to time were beginning to fade. If she strained, she could still remember the face and the tarnished armor, but, more and more, she could not remember the times they had shared. It was worrisome, but she would live. As long as she was still alive, it would be fine. She had promised to return.

A silver glaive flashed through memory. It clove through foes, scattering them to dust. The lady who wielded it was beautiful in her own way, carving a path of brilliant destruction through the ranks of enemies. The lady sat on verdant grass, looked at her and whispered a name so softly she could not hear. Would return to her, somehow. She had promised.

But who had she promised to return to? What was the name attached to the face which haunted her dreams? She no longer knew. But it didn't matter. Somehow, somewhen, she would return. She had promised.

Miriael Sabathiel, Keeper of Secrets, laughed.

{oOo}

It had been five years already since that fateful day. Five years of pain, suffering, loneliness. It was time to end this and find her. Persephone looked at the members of her Order, gathered around her.

"Tomorrow, we return! To Sicarus! For glory! For honor! For vengeance!"

For Miriael.

For the one person who she considered to be closest to her.

For she who had promised to return.

Miriael had made her sacrifice. It was Persephone's turn.

She had promised to return.

Persephone fingered the last thing Miriael had given her, rolling the plasma grenade from palm to palm, hand to hand, as the Third Golden Crusade began.

{oOo}


	9. Remembrance VI

{oOo}

Cadia was a fortress world. Built to ward against attacks seeking to enter the galaxy from the Eye of Terror, it stood, implacable, its surface studded with fortifications, its orbit filled with defense platforms. The entire setup had had a sort of pristine sterility, the sharp angular lines of shining metal plates contrasting sharply with the organic green of the vegetation which covered the ground. Then the Black Crusade came.

Even from orbit, she had seen the fires burning on the ground, sending up thick greasy plumes of black smoke. Thick brown streaks marred the earth where tracked vehicles had rumbled by, tearing up grass and churning up thick mud. Many of the tracks terminated in a smoking hulk, others in deep craters. Bits of metal peppered the landscape. They marched, following the gouges, nearing the fighting. Far off to her left, other Sisters of Battle rode on dark blue Immolator tanks and in Repressor armored personnel carriers. The Order of the Frozen Rose, led by Tekhne, focused on vehicle combat.

Together, with their brothers and sisters in arms, they were the Army of the Imperium. It was a glorious sight to behold.

Then they came upon the battlefield. Bodies lay scattered about, mostly the corpses of killed Imperial Guardsmen, although there were a few Traitor Marines, armor charred from flamer fire. Miriael blinked. The fresh mud vanished, and a dry desert plain replaced it, stretching to the horizon. She stood, looking around. Word Bearers in their red armor lay strewn about, and she could see Sisters of her Order, dead, as well, and - Miriael felt a tapping on her shoulder. She blinked, and the vista was once again that of grass and mud. Persephone stood in front of her.

_Are you all right?_

Miriael nodded.

_Do not worry about me._

Persephone looked at her doubtfully, but nodded once and walked away to rejoin the long trek towards the enemy. Miriael dutifully followed.

{oOo}

It was over. They had driven the Enemy off of Cadia. Once again, the security of the Imperium was assured. Yet, the victory seemed hollow. Success, but at what cost? The shattered hulks of wrecked tanks lay where they had fallen silent, holes punched through both their protective armor and the occupants therein. Somewhere, a Guardsman screamed. He had been doing so for some time. The broken metal vehicles could be replaced, whether using recycled parts or forged anew, but how could the lives, the experience of the dead soldiers be revived?

She had heard stories of the healing powers of Princess Serenity, that she could bring back the faithful from the brink of death, that she could heal the gravest of wounds, that she perhaps could purge even the taint of Chaos. But if she could do so, if she could miraculously bring the dead soldiers back to life, then why had she not done so? Miriael shook her head, purging the blasphemous thoughts. She was accompanying Persephone to a meeting of command staff, she supposed that her questions would be answered there. She was used to waiting.

Both Serenity and Tekhne were already present by the time that Persephone arrived, conversing animatedly with Lord Castellan Leto Atreides, commander of the Cadian Imperial Guard. They fell silent as Persephone entered, and Leto rose and bowed to her. "My Lady," he said, with the appropriate reverence.

- another different man bowed to a younger-looking Persephone. "My Lady," he said, as he raised a knife -

Miriael forced herself to loosen her unconscious grip on her bolt pistol as she studied the man who stood in front of her.

He was a tall and dark-haired, dressed in the standard green and tan of the Cadian Guard, although an scarlet colored eagle was sewn onto his uniform on his left sleeve. Given the streaks of grey in his hair, Miriael judged him to be two hundred or so years old. Supposedly, he was quite competent, and had been serving the Emperor for most of his adult life.

Persephone acknowledged him, and looked back at her sisters. "Please," she said, "do not interrupt your conversation on my behalf."

Serenity nodded at her. "We were just discussing the conditions of our deployment and casualty rates. Our Orders were the only military units close enough to respond in time. Most of the Astartes were out campaigning against the Dark Eldar, and neither the Night Lords or the Blood Angels are combat-ready at this point. Furthermore, the Silver Knights were otherwise occupied defending Arx gap from a simultaneous assault from Noise Marines." Everyone grimaced in distaste at the mention of Fulgrim's fallen soldiers, who had been the source of much trouble for the Primarch himself.

Tekhne continued where her sister left off. "The Order of the Frozen Rose has effectively lost seventy percent of its combat capability. Most of our Immolators were destroyed, and our complement of Indomitable battle tanks was wiped out in its entirety. Furthermore, over half of the infantry under my command have been killed."

"The Cadian Imperial Guard has sustained eighty-three percent casualties. Current replacement and standard loss rates indicate that if no changes are made, we will return to full fighting capacity within two years."

Persephone spoke up. "My Order has lost half of its combat effectives."

"It appears," Serenity acknowledged, "that I have no choice in the matter, then." She sighed slightly and bowed her head, propping it up with her fingers. "Even given that the Black Legion left their own dead, making this twice as hard... I had been hoping for better news from you." She laughed grimly. "Less casualties would be nice." Serenity sighed. "Ah, well. Might as well get this over with. Tekhne, you're in charge while I'm out."

The blue-haired Senshi nodded. "I understand."

Miriael followed her Lady and the rest outside, where the stopped as Serenity stood, raising her staff, glowing faintly. She cut a regal figure as she looked out upon the scene of destruction.

_"Luna's Cleansing Glory!"_

The Princess fell backwards as her staff emanated a wave of silver light. The bodies of the fallen Chaos Marines warped and twisted and finally fell still, all traces of corruption gone. Still struggling to stand, Serenity raised her staff once again.

_"Luna's Healing Escalation!"_

This time, Serenity collapsed, unconscious, even as all of the human dead stirred and stood, some falling to their knees in reverence, others crying in relief, still others begging for forgiveness for having fallen to the Ruinous Powers. Through it all, Serenity slept and did not answer to any of those who called out her name.

Tekhne looked at Persephone, lightly ruffling her hair. "Can you take care of Serenity? I have a feeling that I'll be a little busy soon." She smiled when Persephone nodded hesitantly. "Thank you." She walked off, Lord Atriedes in tow, leaving Persephone's slight figure burdened by the weight of her sister's larger body.

Persephone looked up at Miriael. "Help me? Please?"

{oOo}


	10. Remembrance VII

{oOo}

They finally departed the smoking battlefields of Cadia, limping home to recover their losses. Three battle barges had been destroyed during the fighting, making living quarters much more cramped than they had been. Even so, Persephone had been a little too enthusiastic in her efforts to convince Miriael to room with her on the ship. After the tearful plea, Miriael had acquiesed. It had been one of her better decisions, she decided, as she took in the purple-themed room.

Miriael brushed her fingers over one particularly ornate stained-glass lamp. The brass filigree which was embossed on the surface shone in the dim light. Its glass panels looked cracked, as if the lamp itself had shattered at some point and had been painstakingly reassembled. She looked around. The entire room was decorated with lamps, and the room itself bore a great resemblance to Persephone's chambers on Terra. She looked over at the bed where Persephone

- lay, bleeding from a large gash near shoulder and a stab wound on her stomach. Far away, Lampadas burned. Miriael clenched her fist. They had failed -

Miriael closed her eyes, shuddering. She looked over at the bed again, where Persephone lay peacefully, sleeping. She saw a tear leak out from under a closed eyelid, and wondered what her Lady was dreaming of. But it was not her place to wonder. She sat back down and watched over Persephone's slumbering form, bolt pistol at hand, ready to intercept any attackers.

She winced. The flashbacks - if they were flashbacks - had been occurring more and more frequently, and it had only been luck that had prevented her from being incapacitated by one during something critical. Miriael settled down again. She would serve to the best of her ability. She had sworn it. But always, there was that nagging drive in her mind, urging her to return.

{oOo}

The explosions slowly, inexorably marched closer and closer. Persephone looked at the only shuttle left, and counted. Not enough. There was not enough room for the survivors. It could carry twenty without breaking from the stress. There were twenty-one. Someone had to stay. One of the Sisters stepped away and waved them on board. Miriael walked out and shook her head.

_Go. I will stay._

The younger Sister looked up hesitantly and nodded slowly, and joined the others in marching into the cargo bay in the shuttle. Persephone followed her up into the bowels of the shuttle. As the engines fired up and the ramp slowly lifted, Persephone made her decision. Standing up slowly, she ran towards the closing gap and vaulted over the suspended ramp, landing with a thud on the ground far below. Miriael was quickly besides her. She was grimacing.

_I swore to guard your life. Don't make me break my oath._

_But what about you?_

_My life is meaningless when compared to the whole. Yours is far more important than mine._

_But what about __**me**__?_

Miriael grimaced again.

_You are a symbol to the people of the Imperium. You will find others to take care of you._

_But they won't be you._

Persephone waved away the shuttle, which was approaching to make a landing once again. It seemingly hovered over where she stood next to Miriael for a moment and then sped away, the scream of its engines rapidly fading away with the increasing distance.

Persephone raised her glaive in salute. Silently, she closed her eyes and mustered her strength. The glaive fell.

In the moment in which it hung falling, glistening in the red light cast by the star overhead, she clung to Miriael's armored form.

The glaive fell into the earth, which gave way before it.

And there was light.

{oOo}

Miriael jumped up, landing in a crouch, bolt pistol in her hand when she heard Persephone's gasp. Spotting nothing out of the ordinary, she looked over at Persephone, who had awoken, forehead damp with sweat. She holstered her bolt pistol. It had only been a nightmare.

"Miriael?" she heard.

"My Lady?"

"Could you come sit by me?" She complied, sitting on the side of the bed, and froze when Persephone latched on to her.

"My Lady? Is there something wrong?"

"No, just st-"

- "-ay by my side for a while." A different bed, different lamps. The same person, the same terrified countenance. -

Miriael held Persephone as she drifted back into sleep. She sat there for a long time, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of Persephone's calm, steady breathing. Her eyes fell, unbidden, onto a taped grenade sitting on Persephone's nightstand. She picked it up, feeling its weight in her hands-

- She pressed the grenade into Persephone's trembling hands. Behind her, she could hear the roar of the approaching enemy.

_They are here. Go. I will hold them off. Use this if necessary._

_Promise me that you'll come back. Promise?_

Persephone let go of her arm, and sped off. Miriael watched her run, wistfully eyeing her retreating figure. She turned to face the enemy -

- She screamed as the Keeper of Secrets stabbed her with its claw, impaling her despite her protective armor. Her eyes widened in shock even as the unprimed grenade fell from her limp fingers -

- Pain. Loneliness. Relief. Pride. Sorrow. Honor. Love. Regret. Despair. Hope. -

Miriael collapsed onto the bed as a sharp, searing pain shot through her head. She lay there, sprawled across Persephone's body and did not move. Persephone slept on, unaware of what had transpired in the land of the waking.

{oOo}


	11. Remembrance VIII

{oOo}

She could feel an oppressive weight on top of her as she slowly drifted awake. She blinked groggily. The sensation of pressure was not lessening. She blinked again, and the wavering image she saw slowly resolved. She tried sat up, and something rolled off of her and fell off of the bed and fell on the floor with a thump. The burden weighing her down relieved, she sat up and looked over to see what had happened.

"Miriael?" She began to worry when there was no response. "Miriael?" She remembered the thud she had heard earlier and looked over. Miriael was sprawled on the floor where she had fallen, unconscious. "Miriael!" Persephone stumbled over to where her guard lay and lifted her up, feeling for a pulse. It was there, beating steadily beneath her fingertips.

_I won't lose her again._

She lay Miriael on her bed, propping up her head with a pillow, and sat down besides her. Miriael had evidently collapsed, likely from overwork. Now there was nothing for her to do but wait. She stood, and, feeling something beneath her foot, she looked down. It was the grenade from so long ago, which she had kept on her nightstand. What was it doing on the floor? She placed it back in its spot and turned to walk to the door, letting her gaze linger on a plain frosted glass lamp.

Persephone smiled. When she turned it on, the lamp glowed with a soft white light. She left. She had made her decision It was time.

The Order of Silence Eternal milled anxiously, muttering amongst themselves in hushed tones. Persephone walked out, and quiet immediately fell across the auditorium. She gazed across the sea of faces. Many-time veterans from previous campaigns, each proudly wearing the silver-trimmed violet uniform of the Order. Her Order. She spoke.

"We gather here today to mourn. Our recent battles were hard-fought, and again and again we have killed - and have been killed - in the name of the Emperor. It is our duty, for we are the Imperium's shield, defending it from all enemies. We have fought with honor, with bravery, with dignity. But it is not enough.

"I have led you for almost two millenia, and, together, we have won victory after victory, striking fear into the hearts of our enemies. I have led you through glory, through victory and defeat alike. For almost two millenia, you have acted as my guard, protecting me from harm even as I fought.

"For the past five years, we have been defeated, time and again. In our strike on Sicarus, we lost seven hundred of our number in one skirmish alone. This I cannot accept. I have failed in my duty to the Imperium. In my duty to you. You... All of you... You are my children, in a sense, my wards. You fight with me, for me, but it is still my task to look after you and ensure your safety and well-being.

"When you joined with the Order, you swore to fight to the best of your ability. In turn, I swore to command to the best of my ability, to guide and command, to try and keep as many of you alive as I could. I have failed, and for that, I must offer my sincerest apologies.

"You were told that, when we came to Sicarus for the second time, it was on the orders of the Emperor - and that it was. But the reason it was Sicarus that we went to, and not Synchrony or some other planet... That was my selfishness. Most of you may remember the original campaign we took part in, during the Second Golden Crusade. I still remember. Then, I lost someone who was my friend and companion, someone who I trusted with my life. She gave her life to save mine. When I discovered that she had not been killed, I was both filled with joy and despair. I rejoiced - for she lived. I despaired also, for her body had been possessed by Slaanesh.

"Five years later, the Third Golden Crusade began. We went to Sicarus because I wanted to. I asked for us to be assigned to that ... that place. I found her then, and saved her. She came back - but not all of her was whole. I was distraught. And so when we were called to defend Cadia, I let my emotions interfere with my command. I let you be killed. I am sorry. For that, I apologize.

"Thank you all for listening to me. I release you from any further obligation you may have to my name. Should you wish to leave, I understand. I will not stop you. Thank you."

Persephone turned and left, her footsteps echoing against the stillness of the auditorium. Engrossed in her own thoughts, she did not notice the person standing behind her until she stumbled, abruptly colliding with her and falling backwards. Strong hands caught her and stood her back up. "Miriael?" she whispered.

"I promised to return," Miriael said. "And here I am." She opened her mouth to stay something more, but the rest of her reply was cut off by Persephone's bone-crushing hug.

"I'm sorry," Persephone cried. "I let so many of our sisters die for your sake..." She blinked, trying to hold back the tears which threatened to leak out from under her eyelids.

"Shhh," Miriael whispered in her ear. "Turn around and look behind you."

Persephone turned to follow her gaze. The Order of Silence Eternal had stood, and, when she turned to look, they saluted as one.

"Our lives are yours to command," they said. "Lead us well."

The tears flowed easily.

A single suit of silver armor stood in Persephone's rooms. It gleamed, its unmarred surface clean of tarnish for the first time in years.

{oOo}


End file.
